


How to Calm Your Cat (Q)

by Only_1_Truth



Series: Three's Company [8]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bond helps Q with his bad day, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Q is having another bad day, Shapeshifting, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Supernatural Elements, because that's what this series is all about apparently, petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_1_Truth/pseuds/Only_1_Truth
Summary: MI6 contacts Q about what they learned from his MRI.  He doesn't care for the results.
Relationships: James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan
Series: Three's Company [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/337555
Comments: 55
Kudos: 353





	How to Calm Your Cat (Q)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinMu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinMu/gifts).



> Okay, so the summary sounds ominous, but I swear this only has, like, 10% angst to start it off - and then it dissolves into tooth-rotting fluff because that's what we all need right now! A million thanks to [Roseforthethorns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns) for getting this beta-read despite battling a migraine and being a busy human in these times of COVID <3 Go give her some love, because she's part of the reason this story is posted!

After worrying so much about what the results from his scans would show, Q had thought that he’d already fretted over all possible worst-case scenarios. And after hearing that his scan had not been an entire loss (despite how atrociously it had ended, with him transforming and bolting all the way to Q-branch), he’d braced for something horrific. A tumor. It had to be. Something lethally broken in his brain.

So when he’d been informed that the findings hadn’t conclusively shown _anything_ , Q had managed to make it back to James and Alec’s flat before pretty much going mental. He’d been prepared for anything, and had been given, instead, nothing.

“Q, you need to calm down,” Bond said, more tiredly than anything else.

Q, who had been in quite a tiff as a human and still thoroughly peeved even after transforming, simply arched his back and lowered his ears. ‘ _Never in the history of ever has telling someone to calm down actually calmed them down_ ,’ he thought pointedly. He did his best to lash his tail and managed a halfway decent swish of to show his irritation. The appendage still didn’t listen to him - another reminder of how fucked up he was as a shapeshifter - and that only made his impotent wrath rise to greater heights. He growled low in his throat and stalked, stiff-legged across the space where Alec’s bed used to sit. They hadn’t bothered splitting up the beds since pushing them together. Officially, this was because James and Alec were lazy.

Bond watched with that unfocused look in his eyes that said he was listening telepathically, although his expression grew pinched, and a pained line formed between his brows. Belatedly, Q remembered that M had been working her Gift-protégé pretty hard of late - sometimes Bond came home with migraines. He seemed to hear Q through whatever level of headache he was sporting, however, as he sighed and gave in, “Okay, touché.” 

‘ _And I have every right to be fucking mad!_ ’

“You do,” James agreed without hesitation, still maintaining what would have looked like a one-sided conversation to anyone else. As it was, there were only the two of them in the room. It was the weekend, and Alec was off on missions unknown (said ‘missions’ might have involved girls).

Unable to stop his pacing across the floor, Q hissed at nothing while shouting in his head, ‘ _All this and I…! I still don’t know anything! They can’t even say that I’m abnormal - it’s just… inconclusive!’_ By this point, Q wasn’t sure if he was furious, frustrated, scared, or just confused, and it left him almost more wound up than he’d been when his Gift-tutor had failed him for refusing to transform. He realized that if he were not a cat, he’d have been crying right now as well as shouting.

Sighing but having no witty remark to reply with, James just watched his friend do his best kitten equivalent of stomping around. After a moment, though, the blond-haired young man pulled his hands out of his pockets and seemed to come to a decision. “Come here, Q,” Bond coaxed, stepping forward and squatting down, hands already outstretched towards his currently-feline companion. When Q spun around and fluffed up at him instead of immediately acquiescing, James blew out another breath and rolled his eyes, “You working yourself into a panic attack isn’t going to make the situation any better, and no one can just pull results out of thin air.”

Bond had a point, Q had to admit… and if Q was admitting it to himself, James was probably picking it up telepathically, but that only made Q madder at the moment. ‘ _Says who?_ ’ Q shot back, baring his teeth menacingly despite the fact that he was just a fraction of James’ size, ‘ _They said that my scans were perfectly legible, and they even got images of me shapeshifting - so how the fuck are they not seeing anything?!_ ’ By the end of the targeted thought, Q could feel that his breathing was faster, and yes, he was edging his way into panic attack territory. He just couldn’t seem to stop the self-destructive spiral, because if he wasn’t righteously angry, then what would he be? 

Scared of some new emotion taking over, Q snarled and turned around to start another cycle of pacing. Only this time, as soon as his back was turned, he felt fingers hook under his middle and drag him backwards towards James. Letting out a sound of indignant rage, Q tried and failed to gain traction on the floor, and then he was within reach for the Telepath to scruff him. 

“Come on, Q, stop wriggling,” James said in a long-suffering voice, although he didn’t otherwise try and stop Q even as he picked him up by the nape of his neck. Usually, having this done to him was both very strange and oddly calming to Q, but right now he was fighting against those sensations with all his might, paws pedalling at the air and some impressive noises coming up his throat. “You know, I don’t even have to be a Telepath to know that you’re swearing,” James noted dryly, eyeing Q while keeping himself carefully out of clawing range. Probably the worst part was that Bond’s face, which had started out with a wryly raised eyebrow, was now settling into an expression that looked a bit pained and a _lot_ sympathetic. The kindness threatened to buckle Q’s bulwark and temper and let sadness, confusion, and helplessness in. 

So with Q doing his best to remain grumpy and implacable, James walked them both to the edge of the bed and sat down on it, although all he did at that point was bring Q up to eye-level and meet his angry feline gaze. “I know you’re frustrated as hell right now, but you’re going to make a wreck of yourself,” James said firmly but calmly, as if stating basic facts: the sky was blue, water was wet, and Q’s anger was self-destructive. When Q tried to swipe at James’ nose, the blue-eyed young man showed some of his MI6 training, as he didn’t so much as twitch - even though Q’s outstretched claws passed mere millimeters from his nose. Disgruntled and starting to feel embarrassed, Q pulled his claws back in. “Now,” James went on, sounding unflappably patient despite Q’s antics, “Telling you to calm down was stupid of me, I’ll admit that, but I want to help you settle down before you give yourself a tiny feline heart attack or something.”

Grumbling under his breath and thinking petulantly that he wasn’t _that_ distressed, Q looked down at his paws, flexing them a little. He gave his whiskers a twitch but still couldn’t swallow down all of the feelings rioting inside of him. 

Maybe he did need a bit of assistance.

Q sensed Bond relax in multiple little ways: he heard him release a breath, saw the lines of his body relax just enough to be subtly noticeable, he even felt a shift in the fingers gripping the loose skin at the back of his neck. When Q looked up past his brow-whiskers, he even saw something like tired relief pass over James’ face. He recalled again that James had been showing signs of a migraine and was likely over-extending himself by having such clear conversations with his nonverbal companion right now. Just as shame began to override Q’s other ugly mass of feelings, James abruptly lowered Q the rest of the way onto his lap - but instead of letting go of the feline’s nape, he rotated his wrist so that Q found himself unexpectedly belly-up. He was momentarily too stunned to really compute the situation. 

“You helped calm Alec down, so now it’s your turn, all right?” James said, holding Q’s nape for a few moments more before letting go. When Q immediately tried to twist and flip over, deeply embarrassed now as well as all his other tangled emotions, the Telepath stopped him by catching hold of his forelimbs. “Uh-uh-uh,” James chided him, and now Q gave him an afronted look. “Stay put. You hardly relax on a good day, and I’m trying to help.”

‘ _Trying to help, are you?_ ’ Q shot back the thought as primly as possible to hide how unsettled he was. He wasn’t uncomfortable, per se - he was actually nestled quite nicely atop Bond’s legs, as if he belonged there. He was acutely aware of how unprotected his belly was, however, and he had to remind himself that James didn’t mean to loom - he just couldn’t help that he was bigger than Q by quite a lot right now. 

Perhaps hearing that last uncertain thought, James’ face relaxed into a slightly crooked smile. He still had Q’s forelimbs encased in his hands, but he moved his thumbs to unexpectedly rub at the pads of Q’s paws, a gentle motion to match his reassurance, “You’re all right, Q.”

_‘I’m ridiculous is what I am.’_

“Well, you are a bit ridiculous sometimes,” James admitted, smile turning more jaunty. Q managed to make a close approximation of a human scoff, looking away. Then he looked back as James pressed a bit harder with his thumbs, getting Q’s claws to magically extend like little pearly sickles. “Just don’t transform back, or this might get awkward.”

Rolling his eyes and kicking the back of Bond’s right wrist half-heartedly with one back-paw, Q argued, ‘ _I’m not really a cat, remember? So this is already awkward._ ’

“So don’t let it be. Just be a cat for a bit,” Bond coaxed. Still mostly trapping Q’s front legs so he couldn’t flip over or wriggle away, Bond uncurled one finger so that he could lightly nudge under Q’s chin. At first, Q turned his head away just to be contrary, but James encouraged, “Just give it a try for a bit. I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with you feeling like a human even when you’re pint-sized and wrapped in fur.” That last sentence was so deeply comforting that James must have been reading Q’s mind again - picking up on insecurities almost before Q could feel them himself. Q allowed his head to relax a bit, putting it within range of Bond’s lightly stroking fingertip. Bond’s smile spread, but this time without the joking slant. He just looked pleased. “But right now, you _are_ a cat, and you may as well enjoy it, yeah?”

‘ _Easier said than done_ ,’ Q protested, although more weakly than before. He still felt terribly out of sorts, but not only did James have a firm grip on him - one that Q had to admit he wasn’t getting out of, and also one that Q had to admit was pretty cozy - but the sensation of Bond scratching under his chin was… nice. If he didn’t think on it too hard. 

Still picking up on Q’s thoughts, James replied congenially, “I’ll help you then. Maybe it’ll even be good practice for you - to not connect your human body to your feline one so much. I promise not to do anything you don’t like.”

Relaxing more and more into the warmth of Bond’s jean-clad thighs, Q couldn’t help but admit that James was really quite a menace when he was being helpful and reasonable.

By the delighted smirk that flashed charmingly across Bond’s face, he heard that thought all too clearly. A laugh imperfectly suppressed beneath his voice, James let go of Q’s right foreleg entirely to run the back of one knuckle down the slope of Q’s head. “I promise I’ll go back to my usual, irrational self after you relax - and then you can be the reasonable one of the two of us.”

Finally giving in to this idea, or at least accepting that it was better than pacing around and yowling, Q closed his eyes and tipped his head back into the stroke of Bond’s knuckle. He flared his whiskers on instinct, and his mind painted out the nearness of Bond’s hand like a splash of color across the inside of his closed eyelids. Q shivered at how strange that sense still was to him - but how natural it was if he just didn’t overthink it. _‘Deal_ ,’ he thought, feeling like he was jumping off a diving board for the first time.

Bond was already in the metaphorical water waiting for him, thankfully.

“Good,” James murmured, more a low rumble under his breath than a word. He left off stroking the slope of Q’s sleek skull and instead tickled just one fingertip against the thick fluff of Q’s cheek. It felt weird… but only because human-Q would have found it weird. Shutting down that thought, Q held his breath for a moment, determined to just take it in as a cat. Did it feel all right? Bond used just his fingertips to smooth Q’s fur down, from the base of his muzzle, under his eye, and towards one ear. Yes, it did feel rather nice. And when Bond repeated it, it had a lulling quality. Q idly flexed the one paw still in Bond’s grip, and the agent-in-training let go. His second hand echoed what the first was doing, proving that he was indeed still listening to Q’s likes and dislikes. 

And so they just sat like that, for almost an hour, with Q turning liquid and all but sinking into the valley between Bond’s thighs and Bond gently massaging his feline face. Q soon had to admit that it felt rather lovely when Bond cupped both his ears and rubbed his thumbs against the base of them, sometimes stroking back against Q’s cheeks enough to pull his lips back from his teeth. James chuckled just a little bit, perhaps finding it slightly amusing to watch as Q’s pearly canines were revealed in a mock snarl - even as a purr vibrated in the little cat’s chest. James proceeded to moosh Q’s face very gently, and was attentive enough to know when his fondling of Q’s ears edged from delightful to too rough.

Q ended up with his chin tucked to his chest, feeling how his fur was probably sticking up around his head with static from the repeated stroking, and not caring.

“There you go,” Bond crooned, very softly, as if Q were asleep and he was trying not to wake him. Q cracked one eye open just to prove he wasn’t and found James looking at him with a smile that could only be described as fond and pleased. But also tired. 

Feeling almost weightless, as if his body had been too full of extraneous thoughts that had now been emptied out - which also left his mind feeling unexpectedly crisp and clear - Q grew attentive for the first time in over an hour. ‘ _James?_ ’ he asked tentatively in his head, uncertain if he should be concerned.

The corners of Bond’s eyes and mouth tightened, but he made a “Hmm?” sound that showed he’d heard. Q wasn’t one-hundred-percent positive, but based on the way James was looking at him, he was having a hard time focusing.

Q lifted a paw that had been tucked up against his chest until now, lax and limp, and pressed it up against Bond’s wrist. ‘ _Are you all right?_ ’

The first indication that Bond’s telepathic ‘reception’ was going out was the fact that Bond answered only in a frown, brows beetling. Then his expression got determined and his hands - resting alongside Q’s head, laxly curled - tensed up. Q’s still-very-human mind was able to instantly put two-and-two together and realized that James was determinedly trying to reboot his telepathy. Instead of picking up on Q’s worried thoughts, however, James suddenly gave a full-body flinch, releasing a sharp sound of pain and jerking his head away as if from an unwanted touch. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bond was immediately repeating, and he was quick to move his hand and press it down over Q’s chest - correctly guessing that Q would immediately try and leap up to check on him, Honestly, Q felt himself nearly transform, but for once he managed to control the impulse, holding onto his cat form and letting James’ hand hold him down. The Telepath collected himself, his free hand rising up to rub hard at his eyes for a moment, head bowed. After a beat, the blond-haired agent-in-training released a little groan that sounded pained but then he lifted his head, opened his eyes, and answered in something resembling his usual, self-assured tone, “I’m fine, I'm just a bit... off now. You know how my Gift is.” He flashed a smile, and while it was clearly meant to be roguish and reassuring, Q could see right through it - Alec and James had been getting better and better at creating masks, but Q never took more than a second to see the flaws in them. “So I’m afraid I can’t hear you right now. Last I could hear, though, you sounded pretty relaxed though, yes?” 

Q nodded, giving a visible response so that James wouldn’t try and listen again - because Q knew that he would. For all that MI6 thought James might be a bit psychopathic, Q knew that James would run himself ragged for the right people. ‘The right people’ being basically Alec and Q, according to Alec. 

Right now it seemed like Bond was determined to redirect any concern back on Q again, and the boffin - his head newly clear and his emotions back down to a level that he could handle, at least for now - abruptly decided he wasn’t having any of that. 

Pushing at Bond’s hand with all four paws until James lifted it, Q abruptly reached for that feeling from before - the ‘ _I’m going to transform, aren’t I?_ ’ feeling - and snapped back into his human skin. 

It was honestly very entertaining to see the look of complete shock on James’ face when suddenly he had a lapful of human boffin instead of scrawny cat. Not a lot surprised either of Q’s best friends nowadays, so it was a rare treat to be able to completely gobsmack one of them now. Bond looked up at Q with eyes rounded with surprise while Q stubbornly held onto one of the lessons he’d just been practicing: don’t think about how embarrassing it is, as a human, to be sitting on a handsome bloke’s lap. Stalwartly refusing to be ruffled, Q sat with his legs bracketing Bond’s and crossed his arms, looking down his nose in what he hoped was a stern fashion. “You overextended your Gift, didn’t you?” he accused. 

Bond had his hands half-raised as if worried something would explode if he touched anything with them. He blinked a few times, rapidly, and then swiped his tongue across his lips. “Um…” he started with a total lacking of his usual cleverness, although he finally managed, “What makes you think that?”

“Good god, you’re impossible,” Q huffed, rolling his eyes.

James seemed to be slowly getting over his surprise, and while there was still a tightness around his eyes that hinted at a headache, he was now looking towards the top of Q’s head with a playful smile growing on his mouth. Neither confirming nor denying Q’s assessment of him, James changed topics by pointing out, “Q, I hope you don’t mind me pointing this out, but your hair is rather… spectacular… right now.”

Now it was Q’s turned to have his thought’s derailed, and for a moment he just blinked at Bond, nonplussed, and realized that he’d been having his head-fur mussed for the past hour. He hurriedly unfolded his arms, lifting his hands to pat about his head. “Shit,” he muttered, part scandalized and part awed by how he could _feel_ that his hair was defying gravity. He could also feel James starting to laugh, and instead of feeling miffed about that, Q found the mood infectious. A few moments later found them both laughing so hard that James had to grip Q’s hips to keep him from falling and Q had his forehead on James’ left shoulder, smothering guffaws into his shirt. 

Once the laughter faded away, Q felt more comfortable than he had since his disastrous stint in the MRI machine. Anxiety was still niggling at the back of his brain, but it was manageable - no longer self-destructive - and somehow even the hard bout of laughter had felt cathartic. “Thank you,” Q murmured, face still hidden against Bond’s shoulder. 

“Hmm,” was James’ easy, accepting reply. His thumbs had gotten under the hem of Q’s shirt somehow, but the slow swipe of them against Q’s skin - back and forth, back and forth, metronomic and dependable - was somehow comforting instead of embarrassing. Q found himself relaxing further.

“You really do have a helluva migraine, don’t you?” the boffin asked next.

Bond’s answer was still wordless, but much less upbeat this time: a displeased groan vibrated low in his throat. Q could almost feel it. It was a clear ‘Yes,’ though, however begrudgingly given. Q reluctantly slid off Bond’s lap, stating once he got his feet stable on the floor again, “I’ll go grab you some painkillers. Lights off, yeah?”

“Please,” was the closest James came to admitting weakness, but it still made Q’s insides flutter warmly, because that was more than James gave anyone else (except maybe Alec). The usually indomitable agent-in-training just sat where he was, arms draped across his knees now and eyes tensely closed, while Q padded around and found the bottle of paracetamol he was looking for, drew he curtains, and flicked off the lights. Bond dry-swallowed perhaps a bit more medication that was strictly prescribed, but the noise he made next was clearly grateful. 

~^~

Hours later would find Alec returning home, his adventures successful and entertaining, leaving a bounce in his step. He’d mixed trouble and fun in equal measure, and would be bursting to tell his roommate about his exploits. Instead he’d notice that the room was dark, however, and upon entering quietly the raven-Shifter would find his excitement melting into fondness. He’d smile at the sight of not only James but Q occupying the room - he wouldn’t be surprised by the addition - the two of them passed out on the bed. 

The only surprise would be that Q was human-shaped. Since Q usually only shared the bed when he was a tiny lump of fur, Alec would cant his head questioningly, but he wouldn’t make a sound to disturb them. The door would close quietly. His shoes would be toed off. 

One blue eye would open, but only when Alec shape-shifted into a crow and landed on the bed next to James’ elbow. Clearly tired, the blue eye would close again almost immediately - James would know nothing was amiss the moment he saw the quiet mass of black feathers. If there were trouble, Alec would have been noisier. 

Alec would traipse around the pillow; Bond would grunt in mild irritation as this caused Alec’s wing to brush the crown of his head; the Telepath would settle again when Alec buffed his beak against Bond’s temple in apology. Q would be out like a light, sprawled almost at right angles to Bond’s body but with his cheek against Bond’s solar plexus and one hand splayed carelessly at level with James’ navel. Bond’s fingers would still be buried in Q’s hair as if he’d been carding through it - maybe straightening it. 

The most comfortable place would be between Bond’s arm and body, as this would not only be a delightfully warm place for a raven to roost, but it would put Alec in reach of Q, too. Q would sigh softly in his sleep, and Alec would quietly preen tufts of the boffin’s hair. James’ migraine, Q’s fit of rage, and even Alec’s intrepid journeys would all fade away into a comfortable quiet. 

~^~

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone needed more cute, this story technically all came from this image:
> 
> I saw it, and I needed Q to get kitty face massages. I also needed more "Bond is the caring, responsible one of the gang" stories.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] How to Calm Your Cat (Q)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27003409) by [Yuurei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuurei/pseuds/Yuurei)




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